


A Winter Holiday

by azriona



Series: Advent Calendar Drabbles 2015 [3]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Advent Calendar Drabble, Hanukkah, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 16:19:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5340506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azriona/pseuds/azriona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quiet moment in the Haus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Winter Holiday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notmissmarple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notmissmarple/gifts).



> Day Three of the Advent Calendar Drabbles - and my first time dipping my toe into Check Please fic. Today's prompt is from notmissmarple, who requested CP, Jack/Bitty, and a winter holiday celebration.
> 
> In my head, Holster is Jewish. ~~Please don't tell me if Ngozi has ever stated otherwise.~~ Hurrah, apparently she confirmed this theory in a livestream some time ago. Isn't it nice when headcanons line up with actual canon? :)

The match doesn’t strike; it scrapes along the rough side of the matchbook, where Holster has folded the cover over to give him a better grip.  The match fizzles and snaps, and the flame burns tall for a moment, before settling into an easy, amber glow.

 

_Baruch ata Adonoi, elohanu melach ha-olam_

 

The Haus is quiet when Holster lights the shamash.  The LAX boys are throwing a party, but the sounds seem further away than just across the street, hushed as if the hockey team is holding the noise back as the hockey boys hold their breaths. 

 

_She-aw-saw ni-seem la-a-vosayno_

The shamash flickers and stretches up tall to the ceiling, sending a thin stream of black smoke curling upwards.  Caught in a breeze that none of them noticed otherwise, despite trying to keep the menorah in the one spot in the Haus without a draft. 

 

_Baya-meem ha-haym_

 

Eric feels the visitor at his back before he hears the step or the rustle of clothes.  He feels the breath on the back of his neck, warm and humid and smelling of cold air, artificial ice and very real snow. 

 

 _Bazman hazeh_.

 

Holster lights the final candle, and the Haus is quiet.

 

Jack’s fingers are cold, but they rest on Eric’s waist as if they belong.


End file.
